Five Run Away Together Read Online Free PDF Page A

his hand over the light switch, puzzled and a little scared. It couldn't be a burglar, because burglars don't go to sleep in the house they have come to rob. It couldn't be Mrs. Stick or Edgar. Then who was it?
    He snapped on the light. The kitchen was flooded with radiance, and Julian's eyes fastened on the figure of a
    small man lying on the sofa. He was fast asleep, his mouth wide open.
    He was not a very pleasant sight. He had not shaved for some days, and his cheeks and chin were bluish-black. He didn't seem to have washed for even longer than that, for his hands were black, and so were his finger-nails. He had untidy hair and a nose exactly like Edgar's.
    "Must be dear Edgar's father," thought Julian to himself. "What a sight! Well, poor Edgar hadn't much chance to be decent with a father and mother like his."
    The man snored. Julian wondered what to do. He
    badly wanted to go to the larder, but on the other hand he didn't particularly want to wake up the man and have a row. He didn't see how he could turn him out—for all he knew his aunt and uncle might have agreed to Mrs. Stick's husband coming there now and again, though he hardly thought so.
    Julian was very hungry. The thought of the good things in the larder made him snap off the light again and creep towards the larder door in the dark. He opened the door. He felt along the shelves. Good!—that felt like a pie of some sort. He lifted it up and sniffed. It smelt of meat. A meat-pie—good!
    He felt along the shelf again and came to a plate on which were what he thought must be jam-tarts, for they were round and flat, and had something sticky in the middle.
    Well, a meat-pie and jam-tarts ought to be all right for four hungry children!
    Julian picked up the meat-pie and the dish of tarts, and made his way carefully out of the larder. He pushed the door to with his foot. Then he turned to go out of the room.
    But in the dark he went the wrong way, and by bad luck walked straight into the sofa!
    The dish of tarts got a sudden jerk and one of them fell off. It landed on the open mouth of the sleeping man, and woke him up with a start.
    "Blow!" said Julian to himself, and began to back away quietly, hoping that the man would turn over and go to sleep again. But the sticky jam-tart sliding down his chin had startled the man, and he sat up with a jerk.
    "Who's there? That you, Edgar? What you doing down here?"
    Julian said nothing but sidled towards what he hoped was the door. The man leapt up and lurched over to where he thought the light switch was. He found it and switched it on. He stared in the greatest astonishment at Julian.
    "What are you doing here?" he demanded.
    "Just what I was about to ask you? said Julian, coolly. "What do you think you're doing here, sleeping in my uncle's kitchen?"
    "I've a right to be here," said the man, in a rude voice. "My wife's cook here, isn't she? My ship's in and I'm on leave. Your uncle arranged with my wife I could come here then, see?"
    Julian had feared as much. How awful to have a Mr. Stick as well as a Mrs. and Master Stick in the house! It would be quite unbearable.
    "I can ask my uncle about it when he telephones in the morning," said Julian. "Now get out of my way, please. I want to go upstairs."
    "Ho!" said Mr. Stick, eyeing the meat-pie and jam-tarts that Julian was carrying. "Ho!
    Stealing out of the larder, I see! Nice goings-on I must say."
    Julian was not going to argue with Mr. Stick, who evidently felt that he was top-dog.
    "Get out of my way," he said. "I will talk to you in the morning after my uncle has telephoned."
    Mr. Stick didn't seem as if he was going to get out of the way at all. He stood there, a nasty little man, not much taller than Julian, a sarcastic smile on his unshaven face.
    Julian pursed up his lips and whistled. There came a bump on the floor above. That was Timothy jumping off
    George's bed! Then there came the pattering of feet down the stairs ,and up the.
    kitchen passage. Timmy was